Promise Me
by heartbeatangel
Summary: A childhood promise kept to the end. Follow Ling's journey as 12th Prince to Emperor, and Lan Fan's journey as vassal to perhaps something a little bit more. Ling Yao/Lan Fan


**Hello! I was rewatching FMAB the other day and I got all these feels for the series again - in particular, LingFan. Enjoy this Ling Yao/Lan Fan fanfic~ Fma does not belong to me C: Thank you!**

_.P.r.o.m.i.s.e. M.e._

* * *

_"I promise to protect you with my life, Young Lord."_

* * *

_"And I promise to make you happy, Lan Fan!"_

* * *

Lan Fan doesn't cry during her grandfather's funeral.

She tries not to think about the nights she spent during the journey from Amestris to Xing where she was tormented by thoughts of her grandfather, the Homunculi, the Young Lord, her failure in protecting the Young Lord.

She briefly remembered about that time, during their first night in a proper hotel after the final battle, when she sat at the corner of the bed; overwhelmed by _everything, _simply everything. She remembered the Young Lord taking a seat beside her.

Normally Lan Fan would jump up, stand in a corner and resume her guarding (because staying close to the Young Lord is simply, simply unacceptable), but she was so, so tired and she was beyond caring.

"He was a good man."

There was none of his usual lightheartedness in his statement. Ling turned and looked at her in the eye.

Lan Fan turned, breaking the eye contact. "We are your vassals, Young Lord. This is what we are supposed to do." (She doesn't elaborate on what does '_this' _mean.) "Grandfather died an honorable death."

Before she could even think, Ling stood up, touched her left automail arm (his eyes flickered as he did so), leaned in and hugged her.

She stiffened and her breathing hitched.

"It's okay to cry, Lan Fan."

Her eyes widened and finally, finally, she caved in and cried into his chest. Ling ran his fingers along her hair and whispered soothing words into her ear to whole time.

Neither of them spoke of what happened that night.

Now, even during the funeral, even when reality hit her hard that her grandfather was never, ever coming back, and even when people came up to her and gave their half-hearted sympathies ("Fu was an honorable man; dying for the sake of his Prince!" "He would live on in _my _heart."), Lan Fan did not cry.

(_"You must never show weakness, Lan Fan,"_ her grandfather used to tell her sternly when she has not quite reached the age of ten yet. _"Even when you are angry or sad, you must not show it. Others can and will use to exploit the Young Lord. It is our duty to protect the Young Lord."_)

Ling understood. He nodded and lightly squeezed her shoulder.

(Lan Fan also remembered that after her grandfather told her that, the Young Lord exclaimed, "It's okay, Lan Fan! When you're with me, you'll never be mad or sad!"

Her grandfather had shook his head and sighed while Lan Fan giggled.)

That night, when Lan Fan retired to the room the villagers had provided the Young Lord and her with, she climbed into her futon and closed her eyes, too drained to care otherwise.

She heard the Young Lord leave the bathroom after his shower and entering the room. She didn't move.

"Lan Fan?"

His footsteps stopped. She guessed that he had stopped beside her futon and was looking at her.

Usually she would open her eyes, respond to him and ask him how could she be of service, but today something compelled her to stay silent and pretend she was asleep.

She heard him moving before she felt something soft and warm touch her lips. (The Young Lord was kissing her! She thought, mortified. This was wrong, this was very, very wrong, it was downright _forbidden_ and this shouldn't be happening.) Instead of jumping away from Ling, she forced herself to continue taking deep breaths, just as if she was sleeping.

Moments later she heard him climbing into his own futon. Only then did Lan Fan dared to open her eyes, let the blush of mortification powder her face, and ponder over the rest of the night on what just happened.

* * *

Ling knew that she wasn't asleep. They known each other for almost all their lives, and he knew very well that even a pin dropping to the fall would cause Lan Fan to stir, much less someone _kissing _her.

He knew.

* * *

"So this is the Philosopher's Stone?"

Lan Fan stood at the corner of the room, silently observing the scene before her with her mask on, hood up.

Ling quickly answered the Emperor's question, speaking confidently of those three years he spent tracking and learning the extent of the Philosopher's Stone. On the surface, he seemed assured enough, with his back straight, shoulders squared, and arms folded and resting on the table in front of him, but she knew better. The slight twitch of his fingers nearly concealed by the fabric of his jacket and the fact that he switched to his more formal tongue was more than enough an indicator to her that yes, Ling was nervous.

The wine red stone that the Emperor had been silently studying brought back a fresh wave of memories about all that happened in Amestris - Wrath, Greed, her grandfather...

Lan Fan was grateful to her mask hiding her emotions.

However, the sight of Ling's smile when the Emperor both announced and promised that Ling will be the next Emperor was worth even hell.

* * *

Ling remembers the first time they met.

He was going to choose someone of around his same age group to be his personal vassal ("Fu is not getting younger," his mother said.) At that time, he was just nine years of age, and he already had more assassination attempts on him than he could count using his fingers.

He held his _jian,_ his sword, better than he holds a brush (he remembers how Fu would shake his head, sighing _Young Lord! _in exasperation as he grips his brush as someone would hold a carcass), he remembered more martial arts' moves than the histories of the Emperors, and he could fight better than he could count.

He had gone to the backyard, the unofficial training grounds, before the choosing ceremony officially begun, and was surprised to see that he was not the only one there. He saw a child who looked about and possibly younger than his age, practising their martial arts under a tree.

Ling had thought that the child was a boy, for their movement was so fluid and skilled, just like a leaf dancing in the wind. The child, with nimble and quick movements, moved along the tree trunk to the branch, sat, and began to untie their hair.

The moment her hair was loose and the moment she began running her fingers through her hair did Ling realize that the child was a girl. Not only was she a girl who was quite really pretty with her coal-black hair and large obsidian eyes, but she also could fight well, and that she was probably even better than Ling.

She turned, meeting Ling's eyes.

Neither of them spoke.

"Lan Fan!" The voice of Fu, both Ling's mentor and bodyguard, called from inside the palace.

The girl turned her head to the direction of Fu's voice.

"It's turn for the choosing ceremony of the Young Lord's personal vassal!"

Within moments, her hair was tied again, and she jumped straight from the branch to the training grounds. Ling watched her as she disappeared into the palace before making his own way inside.

It was no wonder that he chooses the girl with the coal-black hair and obsidian eyes to be his personal vassal.

* * *

"Lan Fan," Ling whispered in her ear. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, and for the umpteenth time since she started getting roped into Ling's elaborate schemes after she was appointed his personal vassal, she wondered how and why did she agree to his plans.

The moment they both sensed the chefs moving away from their target, they jumped in the window and to the kitchen counter. They crouched low on the side of the counter away from the chefs. The chefs once again turned, probably to get some herbs for the soup they were preparing.

Again, as soon as they turned, Lan Fan and Ling stood up, gathering as much food as they can carry, and jumped out of the window just as they had entered.

"Oh, Your Highness!" The chefs sighed (the people within the palace have taken to calling Ling that ever since news of him being the next Emperor spread), although they were already used to Ling's antics.

Even when Ling had been declared the next Emperor of Xing, his life goes on as normal. He still trains and studies (and do _strange _things such as stealing food from the kitchen to satisfy his enormous appetite) most of his time along with Lan Fan, but the only differences are that Ling had classes teaching him to be an Emperor on top of his usual studies, and that his assassination attempts were more frequent than ever.

Just only last night, an assassin sent by another clan snuck past the guards outside Ling's room and stood before him, a dagger in his grip and high in the air, ready to swing down and end her Young Lord's life.

Before the knife could even come close to his throat, Lan Fan's left arm blocked the blow, snapping the dagger in half. A slash of her kunai and wrench of the assassin's arm behind his back was more than enough to do the job.

"I can always count on you," Ling said, sitting up and smiling at Lan Fan.

Her heart fluttered.

Presently, with their looted food spread on the grass between where they were seated, Ling looked at her and laughed. "Wasn't that fun, Lan Fan?"

"It's a matter of perspective, Young Lord," she said a bit dryly.

Ling chuckled.

She liked the sound of his laughter. She lowered her face, hoping to hide her blush, and smiled to herself while they ate.

"Lan Fan?" He called between mouthfuls of food.

"Please swallow before speaking, Young Lord," Lan Fan lightly chided.

"We're not at the palace."

She glanced at the palace behind them.

"Well, not _inside _the palace."

"Yes, Young Lord?"

"Do you remember when we were children?"

Of course Lan Fan remembered. Back when they were young, they studied, sparred, trained, and often ran off together in the midst of doing work. Back when they were young, they called each other by first names and caused mischief together. Back when they were young, after fighting a hired assassin together, they climbed up a tree and pinky-promised to always protect each other. (Of course, Ling proclaimed, "Because I am a man who will lead Xing one day, I promise to make you happy too, Lan Fan!" Lan Fan merely giggled as they pinky-promised again.)

"I remember that we used to… cause trouble just like what we pulled on the kitchen staff a few minutes ago."

"Do you remember that we promised to protect each other?" Ling turned to look at her seriously. "And that I promised to make you happy?"

Lan Fan coughed. _In Amestris, that would sound like a marriage propos- _She vehemently shook her head. No, she cannot have such thoughts of her Young Lord, she is a mere vassal and he is the next Emperor of Xing.

"You are the closest family I have left after Grandfather," she said softly, casting her eyes down. "I am happiest when I am doing my duty of protecting you, My Lord."

"But I want to protect you too."

She merely mumbled for him to continue eating before someone catches them.

* * *

Being Emperor was not as easy as Ling thought.

It was almost tedious, but when he made a change or introduced a law that benefited his people, the sense of accomplishment he received was worth it.

His people seemed to like him (Lan Fan has reported that villagers are definitely more happy and less oppressed than before), but surely they, especially the people of the palace, found it strange that Emperor Ling always had meals (unless it was to entertain guests) in his private room with his chief bodyguard.

The newer kitchen staff, those who had not been around when Ling was still Prince, always found it perplexing that their Emperor requested for dishes that could feed a table of officials just for him and his vassal, and that the dishes were always (_always) _finished.

As soon as the staff served them their meal and shut the door before him, Lan Fan sat next to Ling and removed her mask.

"Your Majesty-"

"Lan Fan, we are alone now."

She glanced at the windows where guards stood, and at the doors where two other vassals stood guard before looking at Ling and raising an eyebrow.

"Well, as alone as we can possibly get, so drop the formalities. We've known each other for practically all our lives!"

Lan Fan folded her arms. "Your Imperial Excellency, our beloved Emperor of our country-"

Ling laughed.

"My Lord, I've meant to ask, and please do forgive me for doing so, but why do you remove your crown while eating?"

They glanced at his crown that he placed at the corner of the table.

"That way I can eat as freely as I like without feeling the need to show proper Emperor manners."

Lan Fan shifted her eyes, the closest she did to rolling them. "_I see_, My Lord."

Ling laughed again.

"… My Lord?"

He sensed her hesitation. "Yeah?"

"The Council has been pressing on the issue of-" she paused again. "… picking a wife each from the fifty clans."

"Do you remember that I have said that I have always disliked the rivalry between the clans and those fighting for the throne?"

She nodded.

He grinned. "I have plans to change the Imperial Harem."

"… The Council will not be pleased."

He shrugged.

"But that still brings us to the issue of you picking a wife to-"

"Yup, I'm meeting the council soon, in about half an hour."

She nodded and stood up, gathering the now clean plates. "I shall bring the plates back to the kitchen staff."

While she walked towards the door, Ling called after her. "Lan Fan?"

"Yes, My Lord?"

"I love you."

He saw her pause. "M-my Lord, it's wrong-"

"Feels right to me."

"My Lord, you know that it's forbidden."

He grinned. "Says who?"

"I'm just a vassal."

"A king is nothing without his people."

She was struggling, and Ling knew that she was running out of excuses. She sighed, lowering her eyes. "… I always had, My Lord," she mumbled.

His eyes softened. "I know."

* * *

The Council took Ling's announcement of dissolving the Imperial Harem better than he had thought.

Of course, there were some that disagreed, but Ling calmly argued that by doing so, it will take away the unhealthy competition between clans, and the heirs competing for the throne.

There were murmurs of agreement.

"But what about the picking of the Empress, Your Majesty? If you plan to pick only one noblewoman, one clan will definitely have a greater advantage over the rest of the clans, and it isn't fair either, Your Majesty."

There were more murmurs of agreement.

Ling nodded. "I have also thought about this." He filled them in on his plans of the woman he'd like as his Empress.

Naturally, there were some protests, but at the end of the meeting, Ling had them thoroughly convinced.

Ling smiled. However, before he could ask for his soon-to-be Empress's hand in marriage, there was someplace else he had to go first.

* * *

"My Lord," Lan Fan greeted after Ling had arrived back from his short trip to the graveyard. He had insisted on another vassal following him and for Lan Fan to wait at the palace.

"Lan Fan, I had been to Fu's grave. To ask for your hand in marriage."

There was a moment of silence before Lan Fan gasped, blushed, stammered, and protested. He chuckled.

"I had talked to Führer Mustang and to Al and Mei."

It's no wonder that Alphonse, who is currently visiting Xing to learn Alkahestry from the Imperial Princess, and Mei herself had given her odd looks when they passes each other in the corridors. In fact, Mei had even said that she looked forward "being sisters", and Lan Fan hadn't put much thought into it.

Until now.

"M-My Lord," Lan Fan stammered. "Please do not joke in this manner, it is not very becoming-"

Ling carried on as if she hadn't spoken. "And I conclude that this is the Amestrian way of doing this."

He promptly got on a knee and held unto her both flesh and automail hands. "Lan Fan, will you give me the honour of being my Empress?"

"Your Majesty," she said, choking. Crystals of tears formed in her eyes.

Ling smiled gently at her, and at the moment, she found herself incapable of caring too much.

She nodded.

* * *

Lan Fan walked slowly, unaccustomed to the robes and jewelry she had on. She was clothed in silk that was much more expensive than she ever possessed in her life, and the hairpins in her hair had their weight in solid gold. Her face was not her usual mask; instead, it was a mask of makeup, and she could scarcely recognize herself as she peeked in her mirror.

Ling took her hands in his, smiling at her. "Lan Fan, you look beautiful."

As he gently kissed her, she felt her worries fade away.

The wedding ceremony itself wasn't so nerve wrecking. Although practically the whole of Xing had gathered to witness the marriage of their wise and kind Emperor (who dissolved the Imperial Harem) to their mysterious soon-to-be Empress, the sight of a few familiar Amestris faces among the crowd made Lan Fan feel more at ease.

The short one (though to his credit, he had grown quite a few inches since their first meeting) and his now-wife Winry held their twins in their arms, and their twins cooed, clapping their chubby fists together.

The Führer stood beside the Elrics, nodding at both Ling and Lan Fan. Riza smiled at them, and Lan Fan's eyes drifted to the silver band shining on her left hand's ring finger.

Mei, with one arm wrapped around Alphonse's, was cheering the loudest, beaming throughout the ceremony.

* * *

To be perfectly honest with himself, Ling had expected an assassination attempt during his wedding.

Perhaps the ceremonial tea would be poisoned. Perhaps a needle dipped in venom would be slipped into his skin while he and Lan Fan took their bows. Perhaps someone would be waiting in their private chambers.

However, he had never expected the assassin disguised as the attendant serving the ceremonial tea to straight-up pull out a dagger and try to kill him.

(This is an amateur who obviously hadn't heard the tales of his _mysterious Empress-to-be._)

Before the dagger could even come close to harming a hair upon his head, Lan Fan flung herself in front of him and swung her left arm in front of him. The assassin merely smirked, _that naïve Empress-to-be, trying to play heroine, _but instead of the blade piercing the flesh, petite arm under the red silk sleeve, it met her arm with a sharp clash.

The blade snapped into two and the broken piece fall on the ground with a clang.

The tears and rips in her sleeves revealed Lan Fan's automail arm. She wasted no time at all; within a split second she flicked her right wrist, wrenched the assassin's arm behind his back, and pressed her kunai that she had hidden in her robes at a vein on his neck.

The man squirmed, and as a last-ditch attempt, flung his other arm out, trying to claw at her face. She turned, her hairpins falling out in the process. She wrenched his arm even tighter, earning a screech of pain from him.

With her red robes swirling around her ankles, automail arm in a vice-like grip on the assassin's arm, a kunai in her other hand, hair loose and flying around her shoulders, and eyes in a death glare, Ling thought that she was the most beautiful woman on Earth.

"Don't you dare," she said lowly, her voice dark and terrifying. "-_e__ver _trying to harm Emperor Ling again."

Ling smiled down at the assassin. "My Empress is quite the woman, isn't she?"

He placed his hand against her back proudly.

The assassin squeaked. Ling snapped his fingers and a few vassals charged forward, taking over and shoving the assassin away to receive his punishment.

There was a moment on brief silence. Lan Fan bowed her head, face flushed with embarrassment. Ling knew she was thinking, something along the lines of the people of Xing now knowing the Empress-to-be was a fierce woman who forfeits noblewomen activities for fighting with a metal arm.

Then there was a cheer. "Long live the Empress!"

It started out like a small hum, but became louder and louder until everyone participated.

"_Long live the Empress!"_

Ling nodded at her. She blinked before turning at looking at the people; no, now _her _people. Crystals of tears sparkled at the corners of her eyes, contrasting stunningly against her obsidian eyes.

Their people had accepted her as the Empress, and Ling knew that all of Lan Fan's doubts had been cast away.

* * *

The following night had been a night full of kisses, fumbling of robes, trying to express their suppressed feelings for each other through actions when words failed them.

Ling tiled her head, giving him more access to her lips. He kissed her with such ferocity that Lan Fan felt intoxicated by his touch alone.

"Mm-" She grabbed unto his robes, clutching him closer to her. "L-Ling-"

He did not show any astonishment to her calling him by his first name; he merely kissed her again.

When the night draws to a close, as they lay on the bed together, breaths mingled and fingers entwined; he murmured, "Lan Fan."

She glanced up at him.

"I kept my promise, didn't I?" He smiled. "I promised to make you happy."

Her heart fluttered. Lan Fan titled her head, kissing him softly. "I am always happy as long as I am with you, husband."

He clutched her tighter to him.

* * *

_In the country of Xing, there is a wise Emperor that led the people. _

_They say that he is the wisest of all histories of Emperors, making changes that dissolved the idea of differences between social classes, developing their country to benefit all, and disputing the rivalry between clans. For the first time in their history, the people of Xing lived in harmony. Some say that he been to hell and back; and that's how he had so much insight for someone so young. Others say that he is the reincarnation of the maker of life itself._

_The Emperor had an Empress that is just as wise. Some say that she was a commoner; that's why she knew so much about the commoners and suggested changes that benefited peasants as well. Some say that she was Emperor's Ling bodyguard, sparking ferocious talk about forbidden love. Some say that they saw with their own two eyes of how she defended the Emperor from death itself during their wedding, fighting off a village of assassins with just her left arm._

_Whatever stories the people of Xing chose to believe in, they all respected and adored their Emperor and Empress._

* * *

Ling usually did not mind Lan Fan trying to perform some of her bodyguard duties such as looking around, eyes peeled for the signs of danger, taste testing the food for poison when it could be meant for her. It was one of her quirks, just like how she could never get used to wearing Imperial robes, being served, and calling Ling by his first name or husband (she had accidentally called him her Lord more than once). Those were just some quirks about her that Ling both loved and embraced.

However, he had to draw the line for her attempting to guard when she was expecting their first child.

"For heavens' sake, Lan Fan, you are expecting our _child_. I can't possibly allow you to climb that tree to check for any possible assassins."


End file.
